


Appreciation

by verucasalt123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crying, Discipline, Gen, No Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 19:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Garth aren't in the story, but they're mentioned, so I figured I'd better tag for them too. This was a birthday gift for thelittlespanko at the LJ spanking_world comm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelittlespanko](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thelittlespanko).



Honestly, Dean should have seen it coming a mile away. Somehow, his hunter’s instinct allowing him to sense danger didn’t apply when he was creating the danger himself.

Sam had been gone four days on a hunt with Garth, and Dean was increasingly worried and frustrated despite their daily check-ins via cell phone. It made him impatient, grouchy and very touchy. Once or twice over the past day or so, he’d snapped at Cas, given him a smartass comment in response to a question or observation. Usually just one of _those looks_ from Castiel was enough to keep all that in check, but Dean was particularly wound up from Sam’s prolonged absence and he was maybe not making the best choices at the moment. They were finished the job they’d been working in Wyoming and headed back east, currently looking for a motel room for the night. Cas had become one hell of a hunter, even dropping the holy tax accountant look for the more traditional jeans and flannels of his friends. Stopping first at a convenience store off the highway exit, Dean stayed in the car as Castiel went inside to get them coffees and ask for the location of the nearest motel. Returning to the car and handing Dean his coffee, Cas started repeating the directions given to him by the clerk when he was interrupted in the middle of a sentence.

“Damn it, Cas, how much fucking sugar did you dump in this coffee?” Dean asked with an annoyed tone while staring down at the cup. 

When no response was forthcoming, he looked up at Cas and silently cursed himself as his heart practically jumped into his throat and his stomach felt like the first big drop on a roller coaster. This certainly wasn’t the first time he’d put himself in this particular situation. Castiel’s look was colder than Sioux Falls in January, eyes narrowed and lips set in an angry line. He’d done it now, and he fucking knew it. Cas had been pretty good about Dean’s grumpy attitude but he wasn’t going to stand for being interrupted, let alone being interrupted so that Dean could _complain_ about the coffee Cas had brought him. There was nothing he could do. He was literally frozen in place, not moving a single muscle, not even taking a breath. He remained still as Cas reached across the seat and relieved Dean of the offending beverage.

Opening the car door and pouring the drink out on the parking lot, Cas ordered Dean out of the car. For a split second, he hesitated, afraid that he was going to get his ass beat right out here in front of the Circle K. But he knew even from limited experience that delay would not be a successful tactic, so he grabbed the keys and got out. Castiel calmly walked over to the driver’s side and informed Dean that he would drive to the motel. “I have no desire to repeat myself trying to give you directions. Give me the keys.”

This time Dean didn’t hesitate even for half of a split-second. He handed over the keys and parked himself in the passenger seat, pulling on his seat belt and looking down at the floorboard. There wasn’t a single word uttered during the ten minute drive. Pulling up near the office, Cas told Dean to stay put while he checked them in. This in itself was very unusual, as that was normally Dean’s job, but it wasn’t like Dean was in any position to argue. 

Cas returned to the car with a key and drove to the end of the long row of rooms. Shit. He didn’t want anyone close enough to hear anything, Dean thought, getting more nervous by the minute. By the time they got their bags into the room, Dean was chewing the cuticle of his left thumb almost completely off; it was a nervous habit he’d picked up since his relationship with Castiel had taken on this aspect. It wasn’t that he was opposed to it, or had ever objected. He had, in fact, explicitly agreed that Cas could punish him physically when he felt it was warranted. They worked very well together and had become closer friends than they’d ever been in the years of the breaking seals, Purgatory, and everything in between, so it was rare that even happened. Cas got very frustrated with Dean’s attitude sometimes, though, and having him do this was much preferable to having to deal with a pissed off Cas for days at a time, or a Cas so annoyed with the way Dean acted that he wouldn’t help with research or went into a hunt with his mind otherwise occupied. 

Once their bags were settled by each of their beds, Castiel didn’t waste any time. “Let’s just get this over with, Dean. Drop your jeans and bend over the back of that chair”, he said, pulling his belt from the loops on his pants. _Damn it_ , Dean was hoping it wouldn’t be the belt this time. Cas was certainly capable of tanning his ass with just his hand. It was usually over more quickly this way, though, so he just did as he was told, as difficult as it was. Standing behind the chair in just a Henley and a pair of boxers, his jeans down around his boots, he realized that it wasn’t a very low chair like you’d find in most motel rooms. The back was actually fairly tall and Dean almost had to stand on his tiptoes to bend over it properly. His boxer-covered ass (Cas had never asked him to take off his underwear; strangely it seemed like that would be crossing some kind of line) was much higher in the air than he expected, and he could barely get a good enough grip to hold on to the chair. The muscles in his legs and backside were stretched taut, ensuring that every lick of the belt would be _very_ effective. 

He stayed there, bent over and trying to keep his balance, waiting for Cas to speak. After just a moment or two, he did. 

“Dean, I’ve put up with a lot from you over the past couple of days. I know you’re worried about your brother and I’ve tried to be patient but tonight you pushed me past my limits. Do you understand what I’m talking about?”

Flushing an ever brighter pink than he already was, Dean answered, “I know I’ve been acting like a dick, but then tonight you tried to do something nice for me, brought me coffee, got directions, and I bitched about it…it was rude. I apologize.” Not that his apology was going to get him out of this spanking, but he said it anyway because he meant it.

“I believe that you are sorry for your impolite behavior. Hopefully this reminder will help you to keep that under control.”

Dean tensed, knowing the first strike was coming, hearing the belt before he felt it crack right across the middle of his ass, which was practically being held up on a silver platter for Cas because of how damn high the chair back was. Cas never made him count, never spoke while he was punishing Dean this way, never yelled or lost his temper. He also never stopped until Dean was completely wrecked. The belt came down over and over across his ass, and damn if Castiel wasn’t really putting some effort into it this time. Obviously, he had the capability to actually injure Dean with his supernatural strength, but that never happened. After the belt had come down eight or ten times, there was no way Dean could keep from grunting from the pain. A few more across the spot right where his legs met his ass, one right on top of the other, and he was breathing hard and fighting tears. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to stay in this position, and he sure as hell didn’t want to find out what would happen if he moved. 

Castiel could always read Dean, even when Dean’s face was facing away from him. “I realize this is not an easy position to maintain”, he said, stopping the spanking while he spoke. “We’re almost finished here, so you need to concentrate and hold on. I have no desire for this belt to fall on any unintended body parts. Do you understand?”

Somehow, Dean managed to croak out an affirmative response. He knew what ‘almost finished’ meant and he held on to the chair for dear life to try and steady himself for it. A moment later, Castiel’s belt started falling onto the backs of Dean’s thighs. As Cas worked his way down Dean’s legs and then back up again, leaving not a single inch of skin untouched by the leather, Dean gave up the fight against his tears. By the time a stripe had been carefully whipped onto his skin in tight, precise lines from halfway down his thighs to the part of his backside that was highest in the air, he was openly crying, choking out pleading and apologetic words the best he could between his cries of pain. 

The beating finally stopped once Dean started sobbing and just repeating, “ _Cas, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, so so sorry_.” Castiel returned his belt to its rightful place around the waistband of his faded jeans while Dean just shook and cried and stayed where he was.

Cas moved forward then, helping Dean to stand upright again, holding him steady. He moved Dean slowly over to one of the beds and laid him down on his stomach. As usual, Cas stayed right there next to him until Dean was able to stop his tears and calm down. “Are you all right?” he asked, quietly.

Dean turned to face Cas and said, “Yeah, I’m all right. Sorry you had to do that.” He meant it sincerely, too. 

Castiel responded, “So am I. You know I’d prefer it if I never had to do this.”

“I do know”, Dean answered, “and I promise I’ll try not to be such an asshole, okay?”

With a chuckle, Cas got up and headed toward his own bed. “Okay Dean, I know you’ll try. Why don’t you go on in and shower, get ready for bed now.” 

Dean righted himself on the bed, ignoring how painful it was to sit, and bent to remove his boots to he could get his jeans the rest of the way off. Making his way toward the bathroom, he stopped a couple of feet on front of Cas and simply said, “Thanks, man. Really.”

Castiel just put his hand on Dean’s shoulder and nodded. By the time Dean was done with the shower, Cas had already changed into sweats and a t-shirt and was sitting against the headboard of his bed reading. Dean first rejected his offer to turn off the lights in the room. “You’re reading, dude, it’ll be fine.”

“Dean, I can see these pages just as well without the glare of these bedside lamps. You need your rest.”

Without another word, the lights were out, and Dean fell asleep almost immediately, his belly against the mattress and his sore behind under the comforter. Cas gave a fond look in his direction before shaking his head and going back to his book.


End file.
